


A Record in Ink

by Dangerousnotbroken



Series: The Dick Pic 'Verse [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Prelude to Smut, Tattooed!Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 00:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14842212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangerousnotbroken/pseuds/Dangerousnotbroken
Summary: Dean has always wondered about the stories behind Cas' tattoos. It's how they ended up together in the first place; it's only natural he'd be curious.





	A Record in Ink

**Author's Note:**

> My loving wife [KreweOfImp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KreweOfImp/pseuds/KreweOfImp) insisted, nay, demanded that I let you all in on the details of some of Cas' tattoos, because like Dean, she was incredibly curious. I hope you enjoy! (and yes, I do plan to revisit this 'verse a few more times so stay tuned!)

“Tell me about your tattoos,” Dean demands. He passes Cas a towel as he steps out of the shower, rivulets of water still running down his limbs and onto the bathmat. He is gorgeous, now and always, but there is something extra appealing about the way he looks after a shower, skin pink from the heat, hair sticking to his head. Dean sees him naked plenty, but in these moments he seems even less hidden.

“What about them?” Cas replies, unaffected. He drapes the towel over his head and chases most of the water from his dark hair, now standing up at odd angles. It rarely does what Cas tells it to. He has long since stopped issuing orders.

“Well I’m assuming most of them mean something. That’s a lot of ink. You’ve gotta have stories. I always wondered about that even before we actually met, but you’ve never talked about them.”

Cas laughs, a joyous sound bubbling up to echo off the bathroom tiles. “I don’t even know if I remember why I got some of them any more. There’s so many.”

“Oh,” Dean replies. He must sound disheartened because no sooner has he spoken than he feels Cas’ arms encircling him, their still-wet bodies pressed together.

“But I suppose, with the right motivation, I could be convinced to try to summon up the memories.” He presses his lips to Dean’s shoulder, his neck.

“What kind of motivation are we talking here?” Dean asks, intrigued.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” Cas replies slyly. He leaves the towel draped over his shoulders as he walks out of the room, and if Dean is slow to follow it’s only so he can stare at Cas’ ass as he saunters away.

~*~

“What about this one?” Dean murmurs, pressing his lips to the apple on Cas’ arm. The vines and serpent coiling around it are the very things that Dean first recognized that fateful night when Cas inadvertently dick-pic’d his biggest fan and he’s long pondered its origins. His tongue darts out to trace the path of the serpent as it weaves its way around Cas’ arm. Cas sighs.

“So, I don’t talk about my family much,” he admits.

“Ever,” Dean supplies.

“Yeah, that. Anyway, my mom was…overbearing? But not exactly horrible I guess. My dad though. He was something else.”

“Was?” Dean asks hesitantly. He already wishes he could retract the statement.

“Well I assume it’s still a true statement in either case, but we don’t speak anymore and I like it that way. Dad was always very fire-and-brimstone when I was growing up. I never intended to come out to them but it just kinda happened, and it was every bit as bad as I ever could have imagined. I don’t really remember much of what he had to say because it was awful and also full of shit, but something about Adam and Eve was in there somewhere. That part stuck with me because that story always spoke more to me about the stupidity of rules that don’t give any better reason than ‘because I said so.’”

“Jesus Cas, that’s brutal,” Dean offers, not sure what else to say. Cas shrugs his shoulders.

“It’s ancient history. Anyway, it wasn’t my first tattoo, but when I first got into making movies and I had more money than I knew what to do with, it seemed appropriate to me to spend some of it commemorating my own personal theft of the forbidden fruit.”

“I like it,” Dean announces.

“You like all my tattoo stories,” Cas reminds him.

“So?”

“Nothing,” Cas replies. “What’s next?”

“Tell me about the roses,” Dean demands.

“You know the deal,” Cas admonishes. Dean rolls his eyes, though he knows Cas can’t see, and moves to start laying kisses over the roses on Cas’ hip. They start just over the hip bone and wind their way up and back until they terminate just below his shoulder blade. “That’s better,” he murmurs. “There’s nothing to tell. I just think they’re pretty.”

“That’s it?”

“What’s wrong with appreciating something just because it’s pretty?”

“Not a thing,” Dean assures his fiancé. “Not a damn thing.”

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

“I think you’re exquisite,” Dean counters. “I also think you’re going to tell me about the map next.” He glides down Cas’ body, sinuous and graceful, and presses his lips to the crease of Cas’ thigh, drags his tongue over the latitudes and longitudes of ink that mark him.  Cas squirms a little, always just slightly sensitive to the gentle touches.

“That tickles,” he admonishes.

“I know,” Dean says. Firmer kisses. Less teasing.

“Do you recognize the map?”

“There’s no names on it. I got nothing.”

“Letters that small would have feathered so badly you wouldn’t have been able to read them now anyway. It’s Montana.”

“Bit small to be Montana,” Dean provides.

“It’s not _all_ of Montana,” Cas says. “Just one specific part.”

“And what is special about that part?”

“It’s where I want to retire.” Cas’ voice takes on a dreamy quality when he speaks. “There’s a cabin out there I stayed in once, I think it’s probably gone now, but I fell in love with the area. I want to build a house there when I’m too old to keep doing this.”

“How old is that?”

Cas laughs. “Depends on how well I age. What do you think of Montana? Would you want to live there when I’m old and ugly?”

“I can’t imagine you ever being ugly,” Dean promises, “but when we’re old, I’ll go where you go.”

“You’re such a romantic.”

And Dean is. He really is. He loves Cas like he never imagined he’d be capable of, and he will never get tired of showing it. It’s just a question of how to go about showing it this time. Should he go for the tree of life with its broad red and black branches spreading across Cas’ chest, its roots licking at his hip bones and curling suggestively towards his groin? Or the angel wings spread across his back, their delicate multitudes of feathers practically jumping off his skin to carry him aloft. Dean has always wondered about the runes on his rib cage. He has no idea what language they’re in, and even less knowledge of what they mean. There is a cartoon character on his thigh that Dean doesn’t even recognize, a cat on his shoulder that looks so realistic that Dean is sure it commemorates a real cat from some point in his life, and dozens upon dozens of other, smaller pieces that Dean wants to learn about.

But there is no hurry. He doesn’t have to ask all of the questions tonight. They’ve got years to look forward to; decades. He’s got time.

“There isn’t a tattoo there,” Castiel murmurs coyly. He’s toying with his lip ring now, something that Dean has always found incredibly appealing considering how nonsexual the gesture actually is. Dean pauses with his lips pressed to the shaft of Cas’ cock, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“I know,” Dean assures him.

He’s got time.

**Author's Note:**

> dangerousnotbroken dot tumblr dot com


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